


Memoirs of a Courtesan

by LiviaKa, MasochisticHero



Series: Impasse [14]
Category: Purple Hyacinth (Webcomic)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Hunk!Lukas, Morally Ambiguous Character, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Self Insert Maybe, Sex, Sex Work, Smut, Suave!Kieran, Yandere!Dylan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiviaKa/pseuds/LiviaKa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasochisticHero/pseuds/MasochisticHero
Summary: We were the harlots of the country, the succubus that fulfil your fantasies, the sirens that drag you to a sinful spiral of lust and depravity. And for a little taste of hell on earth, you only need to donate your information and a portion of your soul.“So tell me, how may I be of service tonight?”TRIGGER WARNING Chapter 1 only: FOR DUBIOUS MORAL DYLAN, please don't expect good things, after all, this is Impasse AUCanon
Relationships: Original Character/4 Fingered Man (Purple Hyacinth), Original Character/Dylan Rosenthal, Original Character/Kieran White, Original Character/Lukas Randall
Series: Impasse [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720294
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45
Collections: Purple Hyacinth Smut





	Memoirs of a Courtesan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queen_BriarRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_BriarRose/gifts).



> Read [Beyond the Impasse ch. 14: Irreconcilable Information](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221365/chapters/59434114), and [Beyond the Impasse ch. 16: Sweet Suspiscions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221365/chapters/60007888) by [MasochisticHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasochisticHero/pseuds/MasochisticHero) because this three shot is a supplement to those chapters.
> 
> Impasse is a collection of stories within the same timeline. Best read it all to enjoy it better.  
>    
> [Impasse Table of Contents](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221365/chapters/58354228)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We were the harlots of the country, the succubus that fulfil your fantasies, the sirens that drag you to a sinful spiral of lust and depravity. And for a little taste of hell on earth, you only need to donate your information and a portion of your soul.
> 
> “So tell me, how may I be of service tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: FOR DUBIOUS MORAL DYLAN
> 
> Read [Beyond the Impasse ch. 16: Sweet Suspiscions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221365/chapters/60007888) by [MasochisticHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasochisticHero/pseuds/MasochisticHero) because this one shot is a supplement to that chapter.
> 
> OST while reading: [IMMERSION](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4voy60TKo9w%22) by [DenisPimp](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCry7mbMtRjARTpJp4gODHQ).
> 
> _Loop the music ♥_

Tonight’s client was had a lot of requests.

It was another Friday night of work. It must have been, what, one year, since I stumbled about this job? With no money to my name, with just the clothes on my back, I hitchhiked to the city of Ardhalis, hoping to make it big in the land of opportunities.

Coming from a poor family from the far provinces was hard. As a fisherman’s daughter, I was damned to a life of poverty forever. Screw that, I’ll be rich, I’ll climb high in society. As if I’d live on a diet of seafood for the rest of my miserable life.

Still, I thought I would make an honest living, since I thought I was pretty and talented enough. See, I was a choir singer back in my town, and the people there fawned after me.

I was perfect. I was a diamond in the rough.

_I was special._

And I had never been more wrong.

It took a while to come to terms that I was in no way someone who was extraordinary. Coming to the city was an eye opener. I might have been a little princess back in our little fisher village, but out here, I was nothing more but an added statistic to the jobless of my nation.

So who would have thought that a person like me would find myself making big bucks as a prostitute for the Phantom Scythe?

Was I a terrorist? Was I a dissident? No, far from it. If anything, I was malcontent. If the state and the country could not give me the life I dreamed of, then what was wrong with working like this to achieve the reality I wanted? The Scythe had a point to prove, and the end will justify the means.

_The monarchy was the rotten tree seeping its decay deep into this country that I love the most._

Since all I had since moving here was my body, might as well make a living out of it. Where would I be now, but living on the street gutter, had _Mistress Briar_ not picked me up and helped me into this job?

Sure, I resisted at first. But look at me now, in a fancy brothel room surrounded by golden velvet sheets. I have money, I have pretty clothes, I eat good food, I eat pretty men.

A little shagging here and there, a little information to extract from there and here, and I was living a high life in the land of opportunities.

_Fuck the monarchy. To hell with it._

I stretched my leg as I waited for the client.

Whoever he was, he most certainly had a specific fetish.

The hostess had gossiped about us about this particular patron. She had said that he was a personal friend of _Mistress Briar_ , and he had been coming here occasionally for the last three years. I haven’t had the pleasure of servicing this man yet. Usually, he demanded the hostess.

As I said, a particular taste. I heard he was attached to her crimson hair.

In addition to that, golden contacts and a slutty version of the Ardhalis Police uniform was requested as well.

Whenever the hostess was not available, he would book one of us, with the same requirements.

From what I and the girls discussed, we daresay either he has this fetish of being taken prisoner by the opposing forces, or he has an officer lady he was pining for.

The latter was an angle more fun to discuss in the dressing rooms.

So there I was, awaiting for this man to arrive. 9 pm Friday, the booking had said. Five minutes to go.

I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted my clothes. It was a variation of the police uniform, bastardized to serve the sinful fantasies of our wide range of clients. Cut from the same cloth that the uniform’s coat was made from, the costume was a skimpy dress that only came up to the base of my ass. The front was left unbuttoned until my bellybutton, so parts of my bare breasts were exposed, barely hidden by the false necktie that hung around my neck. It was short sleeved, and around my waist hung a brown leather belt where props and paraphernalia were latched to.

To add to the ensemble, I was wearing fishnet tights, held around my legs by a garter belt. On my hands were black gloves, and on my head was a police hat. My leather brown boots clacked as I turned to check my image.

Well, this was quite hot.

Running my hand over the crimson wig, I cocked my head and smiled. Although it was a bit creepy to see my eyes golden, I looked absolutely stunning.

Whoever this patron was pining for better be as hot as I looked like now. Or maybe I’m hotter than her, and I can coax him to become my benefactor.

The doorknob jiggled.

I put my left hand on my waist, just above where the handcuffs rested, and posed sexily, arching my back and sticking my ass out.

The door swung open, and came in a rather handsome young man, about early twenties, with snow white hair and a charmingly adorable smile.

Internally, I thanked the gods for giving me a hot patron tonight.

My eyes raked down to his pants. Pity he’s not horny yet, so I’ll need to work on that.

“Calamity comes for every one of us,” I began the mantra in my sultriest voice.

“And assumes the shape that will be sure to hurt us the most,” he finished.

Well damn, that voice can whisper sweet nothings to me all night.

That quote was the Phantom Scythe’s mantra, a way to identify one another during first meetings. When one was already acquainted with another member, the greeting was not necessary, but for first dates, this was a way to ensure that secrets were kept safe.

Servicing a Scythe member was always easier than the normal m.o. There was a little bit of relief knowing that you did not need to pull that many strings, that you did not need to untangle secrets while someone’s penis was being skewered inside you. Actually, most of the time, they volunteered the information themselves, either in an act of trying to impress the courtesans of the house, or as a stress reliever when they cannot find emotional counsel elsewhere.

“Good evening _mademoiselle_ ,” he greeted courteously, offering a piece of daisy magically procured from thin air.

Well, wasn’t he a charmer. With a sweet smile, I took it, heels clacking, and placed it down on the bedside table.

“Thank you for indulging my request. Your face might be different, but I’ll make my imagination work when I start fucking you,” he said slyly, his eyes shining with a predatory gaze. He started to remove his scarf and coat, throwing them on the sofa on the side.

Oh, so he was that kind of client. The type who came here to fulfil some deranged fantasy that was being deprived from him by reality.

“ _Monsieur_ , I exist to serve a man of your stature,” I responded, opening my arms to welcome him to my domain.

That was what we have been taught, since our training days in the county of Arthingham. To be available, to be open, to be playful, to be sophisticated.

We were the harlots of the country, the succubus that fulfil your fantasies, the sirens that drag you to a sinful spiral of lust and depravity. And for a little taste of hell on earth, you only need to donate your information and a portion of your soul.

“So tell me, how may I be of service tonight?”

He walked up to me and put a hand on my chin, lifting it up abruptly and closing his face in. I didn’t notice it until now, but he had a pretty set of silver eyes. Strong, dedicated, malicious, deviant.

I have a penchant for pretty boys. After all, it’s not every day that the gods blessed me with the likes of him. Some days, there were fat bastards, some days, old men. Some days, there were those filthy types who had weird fetishes that I’d need to force myself to bear.

“Roleplay for me, would you. Be my _ma marguerite._ ”

“And describe this _ma marguerite for me,_ ” I whispered back, running a hand over his chest.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Picture this scenario for me. I have not seen you in ten years, you thought I died all those years ago. Then out of nowhere, I go back into your life.”

I imagined how that would be. If I were that girl, I’d be confused as hell. _Where were you all these years? How dare you just show up now!_ Those would be my first reactions. But I doubt that was the play he was going for.

“I’ll try my best,” I giggled.

It’s showtime.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for years,” he began, threateningly stepping towards me.

Stepping back, I put on a shocked expression on my face, as if seeing a ghost of my past. Conveniently, I stumbled and fell flat on the floor, my legs bent in a way that emphasized their length. _Come over and take me._

He knelt between my legs, grabbing my wrist and pulling them up over my head. Gently, he lowered me, pinning my wrists to the floor. “"It's pointless to resist. I'd get you within my hands regardless,” he growled low, opening my legs more as he kneed my crotch. The timbre of his voice was enough to make the heat pool out from my gut. With his free hand, he started to move inside my top, to where my breast was, moving the obstructive linen out of the way to free a boob from the fabric constraints.

His hand started to fondle it, flicking and thumbing my erect nipples. I arched my back in a desperate attempt to grind myself harder against his knees, desperate for more contact. “Aren’t you excited to have me?”

A coy smile graced my lips. “Bold of you to assume that I would want to sleep with someone I haven’t seen in ten years.”

Releasing my breast, he traced a finger to my thighs. Huh, I didn’t notice that he just had four fingers on his right hand. Interesting. I’ve never been fingered by a four fingered man before.

Was shoving four fingers in considered fisting?

His face, his voice, that sizable bulge starting to grow in his pants? The implications of everything he was going to do to me tonight was making me wet with the anticipated need to be fucked senseless by this man.

He ran his fingerless stub through my wet slick and watched me as he licked it. “You may pretend that you don’t want this, but your body says otherwise,” he smirked, before inserting the same hand inside my lingerie to thumb my clit in gentle circles.

My back arched, needing more of his touch. I struggled to free my wrist from his heavy weight, but he held on tighter, depriving me of my need for contact. His other fingers brushed my heating cunt, lightly touching its wet lips before parting them and shoving a finger in.

The slender finger went deep inside me, playfully thrusting in and out, teasing me for more. I wriggled, wanting more. More fingers, his dick, anything.

_I want to be fucked._

“Don’t struggle too much,” he cooed. “You're going to love this if you just trust me.”

He inserted another finger, and another, and another, increasing his pace aggressively, expanding me with blatant disregard. With his legs, he pinned mine to the floor, further restraining me from fully thrashing around at his expert stimulation. I had to close my eyes in to relish the feeling, desperate moans escaping my lips.

“Please,” I started to beg. _I want it so bad._

Sharp cry escaped from me when he shoved his entire hand in. Every thrust, his hand went deeper, past his thumb, past his wrist, assaulting my pussy with his entire wrist; each thrust, I cried out in pleasure, in ecstasy, in horny elation.

With a gasp, I orgasmed, his entire hand still inside of me. I lowered my back, the pressure of his legs on mine building up, numbing them to a point I can’t feel my legs that much. He withdrew his hand from my throbbing cunt and released my wrist.

He hummed in satisfaction at the amount of cum on his fingers. “Stop faking that you don’t want this, see how much you came?”

Was he daft? Who wouldn’t want to be finger fucked like that? Still, that was a rather off putting sentence. But if that sort of dialogue was what turned him on, then who am I to not indulge him?

My hat probably fell of somewhere, and my fishnet stockings were broken. I pushed him away to play a little game of tag, and he caught me quite easily and man handled me to the bed. He threw me down and flipped me so that I was on all fours, legs closed, where he grasped my hips tightly as he locked his knees over my lower legs.

I cried in pain as he did. What was with him and pinning me down, it’s not like I was going to run away.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled dangerously, caressing my leg.

He ripped my red lacy thong out in a swift motion, and I winced in pain at the sudden action.

“Hey! Don’t do that!” That was my favourite underwear.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think that this was going to happen.”

 _Touché_.

Whenever he took out his cock, I didn’t notice, but he flicked up my skirt and started rubbing his erection between my legs.

I moaned as I felt his dick rubbing my clit, before it punctured through my thigh gap, where he started trusting. The very idea of that dick pumping me like that? I felt myself leaking, my cum from earlier dripping down my legs, and along his length.

“Lauren,” I heard him whisper.

“Who?” I instinctively asked, but he ignored me, groaning her name over and over again. Damn, this was a major turn off, calling someone else’s name during sex, but hey, I’m a paid prostitute so if there’s any consolation here, he’s hot, I’m getting fucked by his dick, and he’s paying me big bucks.

“ _Tu es ma marguerite_.”

The gossips were true, that he was pining for someone. This Lauren, whoever she was, was his daisy. I wondered what happened though, that a handsome man like him cannot get a move on with a girl? I assumed that he wouldn’t have problems, since he was charming. But then I remembered the scenario he asked me to envision. Pretending to be dead for ten years?

I’d hate to be at the centre of such drama.

I must have been lost in thoughts as I shrieked when he suddenly plunged his dick inside me. He started to thrust in and out in an erratic pace, sliding in and out of my well lubricated walls. He grasped my thighs hard, digging his fingernails deep into my skin that it hurt a bit, but the way he fucked me raw, hard, and dominating was making up for it. I chose to block out how he called out for this Lauren, and focused on my own horny lust filled moans. Repeatedly, he slammed against my sensitive area. My walls clenched around him tighter as I felt his dick throbbing.

_I was going to cum._

And together, we did.

He collapsed on top of me, wrapping a hand around my waist. It took a moment to regain my breath, because hey, he was good, and frankly, I was satisfied that he delivered. I tried to roll from under him, but he held me down prone.

“What are you doing, we aren’t done yet.”

He got off me and dragged me to the headboard, sat me on his lap, and took the handcuffs on my belt to shackle me to the post.

Kinky.

Tracing a finger to my face, he cupped my face lovingly. His silver eyes were deep, solemn, full of longing as he planted a soft kiss on my lips.

“I can take you away with me, lock you up, and we can spend the rest of our days together like this,” he breathed against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I trembled a bit, as the gods know that I was rather intimidated and scared by what he said. Good thing that I was just a substitute, but I sure hope that things will go good for this Lauren, whoever she was. Because holy crap, if I was not a prostitute and was a normal woman with an honest living, I’d bolt straight out the door from this _yandere_ nonsense. But man, he was hot, and he was probably still imagining me as a stand in for his _marguerite_. I know that I personally was not in danger. But still.

_A prayer of goodwill from a woman to another woman._

“I don’t think anyone would actually appreciate such words,” I found myself saying. Unsolicited sexual violation was not something we condoned in our line of work. That was the number one lesson Lady A taught us when we were trained in her manor. We had rights, we had boundaries, we may be commodities, but we were humans.

We were proud members of the Phantom Scythe, agents of espionage in this time of war, not mere cattle and toys that could be used without due pay and respect.

A joyous laugh came from his pretty lips, and I forgot how dangerous he was. He looked like an angel from the heavens above as his snow white hair bounced and his silver eyes shined with delight.

“I'm not forcing you, you have done this yourself.”

Well of course, servicing him was my job. Whatever could he mean?

He lowered his lips to mine once again, this time, hungrier and deeper. My hands were still tied to the bedpost, unable to touch him, unable to reach him. He leaned me down to the bed, slightly leaning to the headboard, and crawled on top of me, his tongue exploring the rest of my mouth.

“I love you Lauren,” he muttered between ragged breaths and passionate kisses.

“I love you too,” I replied with equal vigour.

That was my job here, to fulfil fantasies. And whatever deranged fetish this man has, I sure hope that I was able to satisfy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me and Livia roasting some good food here. AGAIN, IMPASSE AUCANON. We don't write anything without implications to the future of the story. Yes, we intended to write him this way. Yes, it is important that we write him this way. Did it make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry, but yes, that was the intended effect.
> 
> This chapter is supposed to make you feel (sexually) confused, i mean, she was red flagging his ass in portions of the story.
> 
> FIRST PERSON SEMI SELF INSERT IF YOU SQUINT IS HARD AF, BUT PLEASE TELL ME IF I DID GOOD. I wrote a couple other PH smuts, feel free to compare.
> 
> First chapter is especially dedicated to [Briar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_BriarRose/pseuds/Queen_BriarRose). You know you wanted the 4 fingered stub, love ya!
> 
> \---
> 
> All characters of Purple Hyacinth belong to [Sophism](https://www.instagram.com/deadsophism/?hl=en) and [Ephemerys](https://www.instagram.com/ephemerys_ph/?hl=en).
> 
> [Read Purple Hyacinth on Webtoons](https://www.webtoons.com/en/mystery/purple-hyacinth/list?title_no=1621&page=1)
> 
> [Official Purple Hyacinth Discord](https://discord.gg/DfkfTxD)

**Author's Note:**

> “. . . calamity comes for every one of us, and assumes the shape that will be sure to hurt us most.”  
> \- Dexter Palmer, Mary Toft; or, The Rabbit Queen
> 
> \---
> 
> As always, with love, hope you enjoyed this chapter 💖.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Me and Livia would love to hear what you think!
> 
> Thank you! You motivate us to write.


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